


Right and Wrong

by ThePoisonPen



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America being insane, Canada being noticed, Other, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:43:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2815844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePoisonPen/pseuds/ThePoisonPen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America has Russia in his grasp, torturing the Russian as a way of getting revenge for the Cold War. Canada is there, healing the wounds Russia suffers. He knows this is wrong but he is conflicted. Save Russia from his brother or support and keep the trust of America. Rated M for torture, violence and blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Wrath is a Beautiful Thing

**Hello. It's ThePoisonPen. I'm sorry I haven't been updating my stories. I am kind of in an artist's funk. I can't really get it going. I was able to harness some political anger into a fanfiction so I am going to give this to you guys. And hey, guess what! A disclaimer! Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Hidekaz Himaruya does. Lucky him.**

Russia and America both glared at each other from across the world meeting, causing uncomfortable silence. The Cold War just ended and both were not too pleased with each other for starting it. Germany blinked uncomfortably. "Well…we will all gather after a short break…" The room slowly came to life as nations slowly got up and joined each other, conversing and sending glances at the two major powerhouses.

Russia snapped out of his anger and smiled, getting up and heading over to the Baltic nations to give them a last bought of terror. "So," he joyfully sang as he made his way to the trio, "how is it like being away from me?"

America watched Russia go and got himself up himself to go to Britain. "Hey, dude." His voice was not cheerful. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the former Soviet. He finally walked over to his enemy's place at the table. He looked around and slipped some white powder into Russia's drink and walked away as calmly as possible. He was pleased to see that the victim didn't notice anything wrong when he sat down. The meeting continued, the air a little more comfortable because the two nations were no longer glaring at him. Russia drank his drink calmly and just sat back and listened to other nations squabbling and bickering and talking about taxes. I really want to leave…this is so boring… The meeting ended and all the nations filed out. Russia was the last one in the room and he didn't know why he felt weird. He had trouble breathing, thus ruling out calling for help. He felt tired as well, and slumped out of his chair to his knees, coughing. He crawled slightly forward until he decided to stop and just cough. He looked up and noticed someone standing in the entrance. America. "A-Ame-America…what do you want?"

America scoffed. He stepped to his victim, slowly to increase the suspense. "I lost a considerate amount of money, thanks to the Cold War. We're a little down on funds." He squatted down to Russia's level. "And who's gonna pay for the war? You." And America took a bat and knocked the other unconscious.

Russia slowly regained consciousness in a dark room…a cell. He noticed his head was hurting. He tried to hold his cranium but found he couldn't. That was when the noticed he was handcuffed to a bed, all four limbs attached to all four corners. He felt exposed and vulnerable, even though he was still clothed. "Looks like someone's up," America laughed as he entered the room. He couldn't help but noticed the scared and surprised look on his captive's face. "Scared? You should be. I am not at all pleased with the Cold War."

Russia swallowed, tugging slightly at his bonds. "What do you want, America? You realize you are technically declaring war? I do not wish to be engaged in another war."

As soon as the Russian stopped speaking, America slapped him. "Shut up. I don't want to hear you talk right now."

"Then why did you not gag me?" Russia asked, confused.

America smiled. "I would like to hear you scream. I never said scream. I only said talk." Russia smiled himself. "Torturing me won't really get me to scream. I can take pain. I'm used to all torture methods…General Winter and pass bosses made it so." He shifted uncomfortably with America's heated gaze weighing heavily on his mind. "Fortunately for me, I won't be using common torture practices. I have a little something different." He pulled out a bottle and a syringe out of a box by the door. "Do you see this liquid?" When he didn't receive an answer, America sighed and didn't think twice about it. "It's something my government concocted. It attacks the pain receptors in the body. That means the victim will experience incredible, unbearable agony." He smiled.

Russia eyed the bottle with nervous eyes and swallowed once again.

"Am I such an idiot now? I know you always look upon me as a happy go lucky guy without a care in the world," America hissed, bringing his face within spitting distance of Russia. "You guys never considered the fact that I can think and create weapons like you." He filled the syringe up to about half the full capacity. "That'll be enough. The less liquid I use, the less painful it will be. The more liquid, the more painful." Russia's breathing became slightly harder as the needle approached his neck. He felt his scarf being lifted, exposing his neck. He sucked in his breath and braced himself for the pain (if what the American said was true). At first, nothing happened. He was about to calm down until he felt a burning, aching and stabbing pain at the same time radiate from where the syringe entered. It spread pretty quickly and soon the Russian's body was completely consumed. His mouth opened in a silent scream and he arched completely off the bed. His body was entirely engulfed with agony, fire burning it and knives stabbing it at the same time. The aching didn't help. Russia finally let out a cry, not wanting to scream for America. He writhed, hoping to break the handcuffs. They wouldn't budge, the bed and chains making quite some noise. "Am-Ame…rica!" He finally shouted. The American was enjoying the sight of this. He watched his victim writhing and making short, loud cries. "Why do you fight it, Russia? Scream for me!" Russia didn't know how long the pain lasted. It felt like ages even though it was twenty minutes. (America was timing it). When it was ebbing away, Russia brought his voice under control, whimpering a bit. He shook after that, trembling at the trauma he had just experienced. America feigned the expression of concern and pity as he let his hand trace Russia's side slowly. His prisoner was covered in sweat. Using his famous loud voice, he shouted, "Canada!"

His brother heard and walked down. "What is it?" He noticed Russia chained to the bed and immediately knew what was going on. America had been speaking about getting revenge for the Russian and the Cold War. "Do you want me to…to do something about this?" America scoffed. "Yeah. I think he's had enough for today. Just one more thing." He removed the cuffs from Russia's legs. "The liquid can be absorbed through open wounds, like Purell on cuts. That means I can whip you and give you pain and then give you some liquid that way. I'll do that tomorrow. Prepare yourself." He left, leaving Canada with Russia.

Canada left and returned with towels and cold water in a bowl. "Here." His gentle voice caused Russia to look at him. The Canadian gently dabbed Russia's forehead, cooling the nation down and cleaning up a bit.

"C-Canada…"

"Don't talk." Canada quickly quieted the nation. "You need rest. You need to prepare yourself for tomorrow. I'm sorry for what America's doing for you. He's pretty angry." Russia tiredly looked at the Canadian. He looked completely defenseless and pathetic. He lolled his head away from Canada's face, choosing to look at the wall. Canada sadly looked. This can't be right, he thought. America isn't thinking properly. I…I don't know what to do. He's my brother but…torturing is just…wrong. I'm so confused. Canada finished what he started and walked slowly away, not taking his eyes off of the Russian until he closed the door, plunging America's captive into darkness.

**I hope you enjoyed this story, for those of you who read it all the way through. Thank you! Bye from ThePoisonPen!**


	2. Conflicts are Confusing

Conflicts are Confusing

**So this is the second chapter of Right and Wrong and I'm pretty excited. I wasn't thinking of continuing this. It may be bad because I was in China and pretty tired while writing this but my brain was alive and awake and happy to make my hand write.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. The liquid will now be called insotirnolet.** **Thank you Alice L. Kirkland, the wonderful writer who gave me the name of the liquid used on Russia.**

Canada heard the Russian scream in the cells all the way from the living room. His brother must've been really cracking down. He sipped his coffee and looked out the window at the beautiful morning, trying to forget the hideous sound.

"Canada!"

The nation turned when he heard his name and went downstairs. "Yes?"

"He's ready for you," America informed, walking out of the cell. He was bloody and sweaty, scaring Canada.

Canada rolled his eyes. Why should he be the one who patched up Russia? He made his way into the cell, the stench of blood hitting him. He was shocked to see the large country lying on the ground, a bloody whip not far away. "Oh my gosh."

Russia coughed and lifted his head. "C-Canada. So happy to see you."

Canada kicked the whip away. "Yeah. How are you doing?"

"Do you really need to ask that?" Russia questioned quietly. He held up a hand, silently asking for assistance.

Canada took it gently helped the Russian up.

The two made their way to the cot in the corner.

Russia winced as he laid down on his stomach. "He was angrier today."

"Was he now?"

The Russian hissed when the Canadian started to mend the wounds.

"Easy now," Canada said. "It needs to heal.

There was silence for a few minutes before Russia spoke again.

"Do you see this?"

Canada sighed. "Of course I do."

"Then you know what America's capable of."

Canada rolled his eyes.

Russia heard silence. "And yet you still do nothing. Don't you believe this is wrong?"

Canada didn't reply immediately. "When he's recovering from war, he can get a little…unfriendly."

Russia chuckled before turning serious again. "Unfriendly?" He scowled. "This is monstrous."

"Yeah. Like you're any better."

The two jumped at the sound of the new voice.

America stood framed in the doorway, arms crossed, looking annoyed. "Don't try to win him over, Ruski. It won't work."

Russia had tensed at America's presence, obviously nervous. He quickly hid it with a question. "Why are you here? Haven't you done enough already?"

America cracked a smile. "I just thought my bro here wanted a piece of the action or a show!" He put his arm around Canada and cracked a smile.

Something in Canada was drowning in confusion. Maybe it was his heart that was confused or his brain. Here were two physical pieces of evidence that proved two very different things. Russia all bloody proved America's dark side. His smile and actions towards Canada proved he could still have a light side. "Um…America. I don't think I want to see that…or do that." He turned back to Russia . "Leave me to heal him. Tomorrow, you can back."

There was a groan of annoyance as America went away, pouting.

Canada paid no attention.

"Please," Russia whispered. "Help me get out of here."

Canada looked sad. "I…I'm sorry."

Russia hissed. "Come now Canada. I know you to be a man of morals and ethics. You are kind and you know right from wrong."

Canada looked slightly angry now. "Oh yeah. Are you saying my brother's too stupid to realize that?"

The Russian flinched. "I did not mean it like that."

Canada sighed. "I know. I would help you if it were anyone else but he's my brother. We've been through so much together."

"I've been through a lot with my sisters. Do you not think I wish to stay alive for them too?"

"I can help you but I can't get you out of here."

Russia got mad. "How can you possibly help me?"

Canada got up and slowly started pacing. "I assume he hasn't fed you."

Russia slowly sat up and shrugged. "He's given me bits and pieces of bread."

"I can sneak in more. I can also by you some time to rest. I can also get you more medicines." Canada stopped and turned to face the Russian. "What do you say?"

Russia sighed. "Thank you. But I will escape with or without your help."

Canada took his supplies and exited, locking the door behind him. After storing them, he went upstairs to America's room. His brother was out of the shower, drying his hair. "America?"

America turned and sat on the bed. "Yes?" He patted the space next to him and smiled a cute smile when Canada obeyed.

"I was looking at your prisoner and I think he needs a few days to rest and recuperate."

America looked disappointed and skeptical. "Really?"

His brother nodded.

"Very well," the American groaned. "I guess a few days rest won't kill anybody."

Canada smiled. "Thank you." He got up and headed down to the cell again. He stopped outside Russia's cell. "Got you a few days rest. I'll sneak food and medicine while you rest." A tired thank you came out. Canada nodded and left.

Russia lay on his side and smiled. Canada would end up on his side. The more destructive America got, the more distant and horrified Canada would become. If he could stop caring about his brother, Canada would help him.

America was in his room, checking his vials of the name he had Insotirnolet. He looked at the clear, seemingly harmless chemical.  _Canada,_  he thought.  _You could never understand why I am doing this or how I feel. I know it's brutal but…_  he lay in his bed.  _Don't betray me. Don't let that demon possess you._

Canada sat in his room, listening to the ticks on the clock. No matter how many times he thought about it, he couldn't find anything that was wrong on Russia's behalf. He could count many things America did wrong.  _What to do, what to do…_  He didn't know why he was assisting his brother's enemy. He didn't know why America was enacting revenge. He did know one thing; that things were going to get very interesting.

**So there it is. If this chapter is horrible, please forgive me. I hope you at least enjoyed it. Thank you for reading. Bye from ThePoisonPen!**


	3. Or Should I say Traitor

**Hello everyone! Those who enjoy Supernatural can read some stories I am writing, though I am fairly new at SPN. Thank you for those who stuck with me and did not want to kill me. Here we go!**

Canada looked quickly behind him as he snuck in an extra piece of bread. His brother had said only one piece but Russia was going to need more if he were to recover. The nation hid the slice under his jacket and took the soup and bread down.

Russia was lying on his bed, dozing peacefully on his side.

Canada stopped abruptly when he saw America sitting on a chair, watching his prisoner. "What are you doing here?"

America slowly turned to meet his brother's eyes. "Doesn't he look so…peaceful? Makes you almost forget the history of violence and bloodshed he's faced and committed." He got up and slowly stroked Russia's ash grey hair. "Also admiring my handiwork."

The northern nation rolled his eyes. "Can you leave? I need to feed him and change his bandages. There's not a lot of room to do that with the three of us."

"Well then," America sighed. "Why don't you take the day off and let me do it."

"You may try to kill him…or worse. I'll do it. You just need to leave." Canada silently cursed himself for sounding a little too determined.

America held up his hands. "Alright, alright." He exited and looked back. "Canada?"

Said nation froze. "Yes?"

"Don't get too attached. Only bad can come from that."

Canada nodded. "Don't worry."

America went upstairs, whistling My Country Tis of Thee.

"Hey. Hey. Wake up."

Russia slowly turned to the other side, still in deep sleep.

The smaller man attempted to poke the other awake. No effect. He stepped back, pulled out a pistol and fired it to the ceiling. "Up!" He tried to sound as loud as his brother.

Russia jolted awake, eyes looking wildly around him. "What?! What is it?!" He stumbled up until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw the Canadian and he immediately calmed down. "Canada. It is you. I thought you were America for a minute."

"I'm sorry," Canada grumbled. "Here's your food. I was able to get you an extra slice of bread."

"Thank you."

Canada watched in amazement as the Russian wolfed down the soup and bread. "You're that hungry?"

"America hasn't been the kindest host ever."

The shorter one said nothing and started tending to Russia's wounds. They were healing nicely, none were infected. He didn't speak. When he was finished, there was an uncomfortable silence and tension.

Russia sat up slowly when his caretaker was done. "Are you going to help me or not?"

Canada's eyes darkened. "I told you I would think about it. You cannot rush me, this is my brother I would be betraying."

Russia nodded. "Forgive me." He looked at the other, no signs of fear in his eyes. "America is holding back. He's starting to tell me he will kill me soon."

"What do you think?"

"I do not doubt it."

Canada silently cursed. "So I don't have much time, do I?" Only a shake of the head answered him. He watched the other. There was no doubt he was hurting, no doubt the Russian was scared, even if he chose not to show it. Could Canada do it? Could he betray his brother? The nation sighed. "Do you know what America would do to me? To my country?"

Russia looked up. "I…I will protect you from him. You don't have to worry. It'll be payment for helping me."

"So if I help you escape, you will offer me sanctuary?" Canada asked slowly.

Russia nodded.

Canada thought for a while. He knew that if he did, he would become dead to his brother but…after what he's done, shouldn't America be dead to him? He looked down. "Very…well. I will help you."

Russia noticeably brightened. "Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you."

The other nation shook his head. "Don't thank me. I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this because maybe having you gone will make him calm back down." He stood up. "Besides, you're not safe yet. I will come in the night. Then we'll get you out of here."

"Russia frowned. "Won't your brother notice your absence? He may not notice mine immediately but yours, yours he will notice."

Canada nodded. "I've thought of that. I am going back to America, keeping him out of the basement. Then I'll leave on an errand and get to the airport where you will meet me."

Russia smiled. "Understood."

The rest of the next day, America did not come downstairs. The Russian didn't do much but pray that the plan would work while the Canadian made phone calls arranging a plane to Russia and a van that would be waiting for the nation a few blocks away. As for himself, he would wait for the next night and then leave, a similar transportation plan. Russia's flight was scheduled for the next day anyway.

Night fell and Russia sat chewing his bread. The clock read 11:30. The Russian would never admit it, but he was nervous. What if the plan failed? He heard Canada approaching. He stood as the other came into view. "Thank you again, Canada."

Canada shook his head. "We haven't done anything yet. America's just fallen asleep. We can leave now. Everything is arranged." He opened the cell and motion for Russia to follow.

The two crept upstairs, carefully avoiding the creaky ones. They made their way through the kitchen, then living room, then front hall, and then they were out.

Canada lead the way as they walked towards a black car, looking as innocent as possible. Except for the dog barking, nothing was moving. Canada noticed the car's headlights blink twice. That was the car. Canada walked up and briefed the man. "Take him to the airport. Do not stop for anyone. Make sure no one knows that your passenger is a nation." He turned to Russia. "Get in and lie on your back. Don't sit up until you've reached the airport."

Russia nodded. "I will repay you, Comrade."

Canada's gaze hardened. "You owe me your life. Don't you ever forget that."

"I won't.

Canada stepped back and watched the car leave. He quickly made his way back to the house and snuck in. There were no lights on, which was a good sign. He rounded the corner to the stairs when he was met with the barrel of a gun to his face.

"Have a nice walk, Brother?" America's voice was ice cold, fire hidden behind that ice. "Or should I say…traitor."

**Oh come on. You didn't think Canada was getting off the hook that easily. Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this. Bye from ThePoisonPen!**


	4. The Hunt

**So this idea popped into my mind. I hope you are still having fun reading this. Thank you for reading! Here we go!**

Canada swallowed as he faced the barrel of the gun. His hands were up, breathing heavily. He couldn't hide his shaking. "America…"

America glared at his brother. "Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Don't give me that," America yelled. "Why'd you let that Communist go?"

Canada blinked. "I didn't let him go. He escaped himself."

America stood up, still standing on the stairs. He towered over Canada. "He couldn't have gotten out. Also, why were you outside? Were you trying to catch him?"

No answer.

"I think that you were helping him." America lowered the gun slightly. "I thought I could trust you. I thought you wouldn't betray me."

Canada's frown grew. "I didn't betray you."

America silenced his brother with a shot to the shoulder.

Canada screamed out as he snapped to the side, stumbling and clutching the wound. He grunted as the pain settled in.

America watched coldly as Canada tried to gain control. "Now you're going to tell me the truth. Where is Russia heading?"

Canada blinked back tears of shock and pain. He only looked back up at his assailant. His breathing was the only thing filling the room. He silently prayed that America wouldn't kill him, prayed that he wouldn't torture him.

America looked around, exasperated. "It's an easy question. I think you can handle that. Where is Russia going?"

Canada swallowed. "Don't kill me, America. You're angry, you're not thinking straight."

"Answer my question." America punctuated the command with a shot to Canada's thigh.

The poor nation crumpled to the floor, crying out. He was sweating now and didn't know how to get out of this situation. "He's going…back to my country…You cannot touch him there." Canada hoped America believed him.

America frowned. "Why would he go there?" He seemed genuinely confused. "Why would he go there…?"

While America was thinking, Canada started looking around for a way to escape. He couldn't run and he certainly could not overpower his brother. America was far stronger than him.

Russia listened to car moving along the highway, on the way to the airport in Newark. He knew he would be forever in Canada's debt. Once they arrived at the airport, Russia struggled to the airplane.

"Sir?"

Russia looked over and saw a flight attendant looking concerned.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Russia nodded his head. "I was merely in a fight on the way here. Nothing to be concerned."

The flight attendant nodded and continued on his way.

_I hope Canada is alright,_  Russia thought.

Canada was still clutching his wounds, his fingers sticky with blood.

America was going on about how brothers should be there no matter what and how they never ever stabbed each other in the back.

Canada growled. "What you were doing was wrong. I couldn't just stand around let it happen! You were killing him!"

America sighed. "Oh you know Russia couldn't die. We can't die until our people perish."

Canada couldn't find anything to rebut.

"Well," America spoke. "I'm going to have to punish you."

Canada's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"You betrayed me. I can't let this go." America started reloading his gun casually. "It's not like you're going anywhere."

"America, please. "Think about this. I'm you're brother."

"That didn't seem to stop you when you helped my enemy."

Canada looked stunned. "You couldn't. You couldn't really kill your own brother."

America smiled. "Well. You never know." He pistol whipped Canada in the face and quickly grabbed the victim's chin, keeping the head from snapping back. "Look at me when I hit you."

"You're insane," Canada hissed back. He quickly back handed America, smiling when America yelled and whipped around, grabbing his face.

America glared. "How dare you!" He advanced.

Canada ignored his pain as he scooched away. "Stay away from me, America," he demanded. "Just let me go."

Snarling, America shot Canada in the foot and hand. He grinned when he heard his brother scream. "I'd get that checked out if I were you." He suddenly stopped his assault. "I have an idea. I'll let you free if you can escape. I'll set you lose in the forest and you will have two days to evade me."

Canada looked horrified.

"I have private lands for this. They're fenced in so it's not like you'll escape easily" America, keeping the gun trained on his captive, he grabbed the kitchen phone. "I will allow you one phone call. Here."

Canada took the phone and dialed. "Russia?" he spoke after a while. He sent a little smirk at America.

"Hello, Canada. The plane hasn't taken off yet. What happened? Are you okay?" Russia's concerned voice was shaking.

Canada shook his head. "America has me. He's going to hunt me. Get away and stay away. You can't do anything now."

"I will offer you sanctuary, Canada. Do not worry."

Canada smiled sadly. "You have to get there first. Stay safe, Russia. Good bye."

Russia was about to protest but Canada hung up before he could respond.

"The main cabin doors have been closed. Please turn off all cellular devices."

Russia swore under his breath as he obeyed the flight attendants.

Canada was blindfolded and cuffed before being strapped into the backseat of America's limousine. He only saw the flashes of highway lights as they spent the next three hours in the car. It was five in the morning when the car stopped. Canada felt the gun at his temple.

"Get out."

Canada obeyed. "Where are we?"

"A section of the Pine Barrens."

The blindfold was ripped off and Canada saw nothing but woods around him. "America. Are you sure about this?" A knife was thrust into his face.

"Run," America whispered. "You have one hour."

Canada knew it was useless to argue at his point. He took one look at his former brother and friend. "I forgive you, America." With that, he took off, gripping his knife like it was his life. He didn't look back. He only heard America's insane laugh as he stumbled through the forest, wounds still punishing him for his every movement.

**So this was fun. I hope you all enjoyed. The next chapters will be the hunt and Russia being worried. Bye from ThePoisonPen!**


	5. The Chase

**You know what? That chapter was really fun and I wanted to continue the hunt! I hope you guys enjoy! Here we go!**

Canada gasped as he barreled through the woods of these enclosed Pine Barrens. He didn't feel the wounds as much, adrenaline rushing through his system. He couldn't believe that his own kin was hunting him. He decided to rest by a large oak tree. That was a mistake. While he rested, the adrenaline levels decreased and new fresh pain washed over him. The bullets could be seen in his flesh. With great difficulty, Canada removed the bullets in his leg and shoulder, ignoring the one in his foot.

America had checked his watch. The traitor still had about ten minutes. The American adjusted his assault rifle along with his sniper rifle. He had more magazines in his backpack. Being a nation, he was not weighed down by this gear.

The hunted man limped around, not knowing where to go. He would never really be able to run, sooner or later he would succumb to his wounds. God knows what America would do with him once he found him. Canada blinked back tears. He had to remain sharp, vigilant and conscious. He decided that his best option was to hide. He crossed a river, clothes getting wet and uncomfortable. Seeing an easy tree to climb, he expelled a lot of energy climbing it. Perched on a branch, he huffed, breath misty in the cold morning air. He couldn't hide here all day. Gritting his teeth, Canada made his way back down once he regained strength. He thought that America said that he would get two days. Why was it only one hour?

The hunter smiled when he saw little specks of red on the ground. They were drops of Canada's blood, and America was going to follow them like a…komodo dragon. He cocked his rifle and followed the trail. What confused him was that they stopped at a tree, which had more blood on a branch. Canada must've been here, resting. America trailed one finger in a puddle and licked it. He always thought Canada tasted sweet.

Canada himself dragged himself through the forest, tripping over a lot of roots. At one point in time, he had twisted his ankle on one root sticking out of the ground. It was painful to move and his speed was drastically reduced. This was, of course, the moment when the Canadian realized he was trailing blood which America could follow. The odds were not in his favor. _Please,_ he thought. _Please let this hour pass by quickly. I've hit several fences and I can see that this area isn't very big._ The Canadian hobbled forward but startled when he heard a shot.

"Canada! You have 30 minutes left!"

 _Thirty minutes left? Does time fly when you're trying to keep from being caught?_ The pain was almost unbearable now with dirt, dust and other things in the wound. Canada's ankle was inflamed. This caused the Canadian to discover that it was, in fact, broken. Suddenly, his ankle failed him and he crumpled to the floor.

"I heard that, Mattie! You're nearby!" America had indeed heard the fall and approached an area where he thought Canada was. There were drag marks off to the side so America started to follow that. He smirked. _Let's flush out some birds._ He raised his rifle up to the sky and fired. Birds started squawking and flying away. America listened through all the noise for one thing. He heard it. He heard a small gasp from a bush. Last time he checked, bushes did not gasp. He aimed his rifle and cocked it. "Come out, Canada. I've found you. You're in the bush." He reached in to pull out his prize.

Canada saw America's hand coming for him. He grabbed his makeshift spear and, with all his might and hate, drove it into the American's arm.

America felt the sharp pain and pulled back. "Fuck!" He dropped the gun and gripped his left arm. "Crap! You son of a bitch!"

Canada scrambled out of the brush and took up the rifle. "Hands up." His voice was hard and his orders swift.

America looked down the barrel and slowly raised his hands. He didn't seemed all that concerned; in fact, he seemed bored. "You won't kill me, Canada." He took a step forward. "You can't."

Canada was shaking but didn't lower the weapon. "I'll shoot."

"No you won't."

What scared Canada the most was his brother was right. He was America, his brother. He couldn't bring himself to shoot the approaching nation. "Fuck," he whispered. He lowered the gun. "I can't shoot you. You're right." He blinked back tears as the weapon was thrown at America.

America let the gun strike him. A cut formed from the impact and blood started streaming down his face. The rifle must've been really heavy. He chuckled and picked it up. "Well. Time for the hunter to collect his prey."

Canada swallowed and limped a bit forward. "Okay. Listen to me, America. You're not thinking straight. You are angry and messed up. I can help you."

America smiled. "I'm not messed up. I've just awaken." He twirled the gun and then expertly shot a bullet into the Canadian's knee.

Canada screamed and collapsed. Now there was no way of escaping. "America! I'm your brother!" His voice was cracking from the pain. "Please, just let me go!"

The American shook his head. "I'm like a cat. I'm going to play with you until I get bored. Then I'm going to kill you." He laughed. "Why don't you try to get away? Go on. Shoo."

Canada blinked and then let out a whimper as he slowly started to drag himself away from the enemy. He kept his eyes trained on America. His movements were jerky from exhaustion. He was whispering pleas of mercy, hoping that America would not pursue. His heart dropped when America started to follow slowly. Canada held one hand up protectively. "Please. Stop. Just stop."

America's grin went dark. "I'm getting bored, Bro. Better make this a little more interesting."

"I'll make it more interesting."

America heard this new voice and whipped around, rifle still trained on Canada. He smiled when he saw who it was. "Stay right where you are, Canada. This DID just get interesting."

**Cliff hanger! I hope it's a good one. Anyway, this is really fun! Sorry for the late update. Bye from ThePoisonPen!**


	6. A Savior

Canada couldn't really process what just happened. The pain clouded his vision too much. All he knew was that Russia was standing with a shotgun pointed at his brother who held a gun pointed at him. It was all really confusing.

America's mind was, of course, racing. Here Russia was with a dangerous weapon and the trigger could be pulled at any moment. He forced himself to remain calm. "Well, Russia. What are you doing here? I thought you were running away back to your home like a scared little rat."

Russia just glared.

Canada, panting heavily, could really only watch as the scene unfolded before him. "R-Russia," he gasped. "What are you doing back here?"

Russia's eyes flickered over to Canada. "I couldn't just leave you. I knew America would find out sometime. I came to stop him but…it looks like I was a bit late."

The Canadian nodded. "He found out sooner than I anticipated."

America smiled. "You thought I wouldn't catch on? Honestly, I'm not that stupid."

"Could've fooled me."

America turned to Russia and aimed at his head. "What did you just say?"

Russia flinched slightly but held his ground. "Face it, America. You're not the smartest nation out there." He sucked in his breath through his teeth when a bullet buried itself in his shoulder.

Canada jerked back when he heard the gunshot. "What the hell?!"

America's glare could burn a hole through concrete. "I am not stupid," he seethed. "I am one of the most powerful nations out there." He turned his head and looked at his brother. "I have gotten stronger since I was born, like any other nation. I am not an idiot!" Without pausing, he fired a bullet into Canada's arm.

Russia took a concerned step forward. "America. I know now not to mess with you, but really? Hunting your own brother is a new low." He looked at Canada. With his eyes, he sent one message. _Run._ Without warning, he shot America in the arm.

The American let out a surprised cry and leapt to the side as Russia attempted to shoot him again.

Canada quickly started to drag himself away as Russia quickly moved to stand in front of him. Looking over his shoulder, he only saw Russia who was slowly scanning the area. "Russia!"

"Just hurry and find a way out of here! I will join you after I'm done with the American!"

Canada could only nod and grit his teeth as he left the area painfully slowly.

Now that Russia was alone, he looked around. He heard and saw nothing, but he knew the country was out there. Nothing but the birds chirping could be heard. The Russian forced himself to remain calm as he slowly got down on one knee to be less noticeable. He started to move out of the clearing and into the more forested area. His violet eyes were on high alert for the American. There was nothing to follow, no footprints, no blood trail. It was as if the nation just vanished. The Russian kept his shotgun cocked and ready for anything that moved. Something didn't make sense. America was nowhere to be seen. Russia got up and lowered his weapon. _It looks like he ran away. The coward._ His thoughts were immediately gone when he felt a gun pressed against the small of his back. He stiffened.

America sneered. "Did you really just lower your guard?"

Russia didn't respond. His hands were up in surrender and his mind was thinking about how to get out of this situation.

"You thought I ran away, didn't you?"

Russia still had his gun but it was up in the air. He was ready to whip around and knock the gun out of America's hand. He just needed to think carefully. Quick as lightning, he whipped around and slapped the gun away from America. Unfortunately, America had ducked before Russia could fire another shot.

America kicked the shotgun out of his opponent's hand and tackled the larger man to the ground. He attempted to start choking the crap out of Russia but Russia threw him to the side before he could do so.

Russia grabbed a branch and swung around and whacked America in the head. He quickly dove for his gun as America fell and shot blindly.

America rolled out of the way somehow and pulled a knife out of his boot. He ran headlong at Russia and rolled, missing the bullet again. When he got close enough, he knocked the gun out of the way and leapt up, using the momentum coming down to bury the knife into Russia's shoulder.

Russia nearly screamed and fell to his knees. He looked up through teary eyes at America's grinning face. The knife was still moving deeper.

"You forget, Russia," America spat. "You forget just what I'm capable of."

Russia let his shotgun drop to the ground. He used all his strength to grab onto America's arm and stop it from going any deeper. "A-America, please!"

America only laughed his icy laugh.

Russia reached into his long coat and pulled out a hunting knife of his own. Without wasting any more time, he pushed himself forward and stabbed America deep in the stomach.

America's mouth opened in a silent scream as he let go of his knife and dropped to the side.

Russia slowly stood up and pulled the knife out of his shoulder. He watched as America's eyes glared daggers at him.

They continued to look at each other until America closed his eyes and sank to the ground.

Russia finally let his breath go as he started panting. It was done. America was dead. He turned and slowly picked up his shotgun and started walking away. After a while, he made his way out of the forest and to the car that was waiting for him. He got inside and looked at the driver. "To the airport. I have to get back home."

Canada was resting in the hospital in Russia when the country himself walked in, his shoulder bandaged. "Oh, Russia!" You're okay!"

Russia nodded. "How are you doing?" He looked the nation over.

Canada's leg was bandaged and there were bandages all over his body. "I'm fine. I've been worse."

Russia smiled. "You're safe, here. I've given you sanctuary so America can't touch you."

"Did you…kill him?"

Russia was silent for a moment then nodded.

Canada shook his head. "I know my brother. He's not dead. He's a nation. He can't die."

Russia blinked before turning to leave. "In any case, you're safe…you're welcome." With that, he left and closed the door behind him.

Canada sighed and relaxed for once in a long time. He was alright. He was safe. America couldn't hurt him anymore.

Deep in the Pine Barrens, America stirred, slowly sitting up and leaning against a tree. He gritted his teeth as he grabbed the handle of the knife and slowly pulled it out of his stomach. He laughed. "Pain…it hurts…that's good." He gazed at the knife that was red with sticky blood. "I guess that means I'm still kicking." He let out a chuckle. This grew into a laugh which the escalated into a cackle. Once he got out of the forest and once he healed and grew stronger, there would be hell to pay. And he knew exactly who was going to pay it.

**Well, this was a fun thing to write. I hope you guys liked this as much as I did. If you liked this, then my job was done. Thank you for sticking with me, readers. Bye from ThePoisonPen**


End file.
